Wizards On The Streets
by torigingerfox
Summary: 8th year post-war little OS created for Dramione Love Minifest 2016. A school trip to Milan, no magic allowed during the day…and a horrid sense of direction. Hermione gets lost in the Milanese streets with Draco Malfoy as her only companion


_A/N: Guess who's back!? I wrote this for the Dramione Love Minifest 2016 hosted by dramionelove on Live Journal. I meant to publish it after the reveal, but then I've had my fair share of issues. Real Life took its toll on me and I sort of disappeared for a few months (but I'm fairly sure you DID notice...). Also, my muse has decided to leave me for the time being, so I'm struggling really hard with writer's block. Only, I'm tired of not doing anything about it, so I promise I'll at least try and write again. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this!_

 **Prompt #:** 19 - _"Italy, Hogwarts, Spring, Sex, Biscuits; Squicks: Sad ending, Main character death"_  
 **Fic Word Count:** 1394  
 **Rating:** T (PG-13)  
 **Warnings (if any):** n/a  
 **Summary:** A school trip to Milan, no magic allowed during the day…and a horrid sense of direction. Hermione gets lost in the Milanese streets with Draco Malfoy as her only companion.  
 **Author's Notes:** 8th year, post-war.  
 **Disclaimer:** "Harry Potter" is the property of J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. This work of fiction/art was created entirely for fun, not for profit, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Voldemort had been dead for nearly a year and life had returned to normal for most of the Wizarding community. The Ministry had been reorganised, with Shakebolt appointed new Minister for Magic, Harry and Ron admitted to Auror training, and Hogwarts reopened, with McGonagall as the new Headmistress.

The new, broader curriculum at Hogwarts included a compulsory subject: International Magical and Muggle Communities. The addition of this class was an attempt at promoting cooperation between the three magical schools of Europe and the Muggle world. Returning students were particularly excited about it because it meant a free trip abroad.

There was one caveat to such travel, however: magic was allowed only at night. During the day students were required to live as Muggles did, in order to broaden their horizons and embrace diversity.

The available locations for the new program were enticing enough for many to overlook the magical handicap, however: Nice in France, home to one of the loveliest wizarding villages, known for its greenhouses that provided potions ingredients for half of the country; Hannover in Germany, which boasted one of the first magical communities where werewolves lived and worked alongside witches and wizards; and Milan in Italy, which was an ideal location for fashion, food, and culture lovers. It was a city even more beautiful in the springtime.

—Which was why Hermione had chosen it as her destination location, for this, her do-over year. She just hadn't expected the Milanese streets to be so difficult to navigate.

Lost in the narrow back alleys, with no maps, no means to contact their chaperone, Professor Vector, and no idea how to get back to Wizarding Milan was challenging, but Hermione had faced worse.

Draco Malfoy at her side, endlessly complaining about their predicament, and being his usual prick self was the thing putting her temper over the edge.

He hadn't changed much, despite the war. Sure, after living in close quarters with a homicidal, hypocritical madman for over a year, Draco had radically swapped his views on blood supremacy. To say he had become a pleasant individual as a result, however, was a bit of a stretch.

"‒ridiculous, Granger! Do you even know where we are?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Draco, shut it!" she said, running a hand through her messy, windblown hair. "Instead of being annoying and incessantly whiny why don't you help me figure out how to get back to the campus?"

"You want my help _now_?" he asked, and pointed a finger at her in accusation. "Why didn't you listen to me when I told you we were getting on the wrong underground metal carriage?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's called _Metropolitana_."

"Whatever," he said in exasperation, waving his hand dismissively. He appeared annoyed that she had intentionally missed his point. "I tried to tell you we were lost at least five times, but you wouldn't listen! And now it's dark, I'm hungry, we have absolutely no idea where we are, and do you have any idea of how blasted huge this city is? We're never getting home!"

An overly dramatic assessment, perhaps, but Hermione knew he was right. She should have paid better attention to his advice, but she had been so focused on _not_ giving him the satisfaction of relying on him, that she'd ended up cutting off her nose to spite her own face in this instance.

It seemed they were now in the outskirts of the city, surrounded by huge buildings and a few small workshops, which unfortunately, were all closed. With no one in sight, her hopes of finding help lessened as the minutes ticked by.

She sighed. "Look, Draco, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so stubborn. Can we please work together to figure out where we are? We can't use magic until full dark, and I don't want to wander around in a foreign city where I don't speak the language." She glanced around and shuddered. "Besides, it's creepy here."

Draco rolled his eyes at her assessment, and handed her his hoodie "Here, take it and put it on. And there's a bus stop right over there." He pointed to the spot down the street a ways. "Why don't you go read the names of the stops? It'll tell us where in the bloody city we are right now."

Hermione nodded, indicating both her thankfulness for the warm garment and her agreement to his plan. She slipped the jacket on and crossed the deserted street to read the bus stop sign. To her aggravation, however, some vandal had tagged the location information with spray paint. The board that was supposed to help them orient themselves now depicted a huge fuchsia-coloured penis.

"Classy," Hermione said with a sigh. "Now what?"

Movement from the corner of her eye caught her attention. She turned to see Draco making his way over towards a group of street prostitutes standing on a nearby corner. They seemed a little too interested in him for Hermione's liking.

Rushing across the street, she grabbed his arm before he could approach them, pulling him back.  
He yanked his arm out of her grasp and hissed at her.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

She _tsk'd_. "No, what do _you_ think you're doing?!"

"Asking for directions, of course!"

Hermione smirked at his naïveté. "Well, I don't think asking _them_ would be a very good idea!"

"Care to enlighten me as to what's so funny?" he asked.

Could he really be that blind? "I can't believe you don't know what they are doing!"

He looked perplexed "What do you mean?"

"Oh, Merlin's beard! They're prostitutes, Draco!"

"You mean they sell… _sex_?" he asked. He seemed indignant at the idea.

"Yes. That and other illegal things, I'm sure," she said, finding his reaction quite amusing. Sometimes, the wizarding world's old-fashioned beliefs still amazed her. "Now, be quiet for a second, I need to think," she added.

After considering their options, Hermione decided that their best chance was to wait somewhere safe for another hour before sending a Patronus to their teacher.

Turning to explain the plan to Draco, she found him stuffing his face with _her_ Italian homemade biscuits—the ones she'd tasked him to carry and protect from thieves. The whole reason they'd gotten lost in the first place was so they could find the famous Milanese bakery her parents had told her about, the one they'd visited on their honeymoon nearly three decades ago, all so she could buy a box of their world-renowned biscuits to ship home to her mum and dad. And Draco was now devouring them like a man who'd been starved for the last week!

"Draco! Those were for my parents!" she shouted, horrified.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Nwot my fowlt, wos hungwy," he said around a mouthful of cookie.

Hermione shook her head and sighed. "I swear, sometimes you're the world's most annoying person. Why are you my boyfriend again?"

Draco grinned. "Because Malfoys are smart, and always right, and irresistible." He popped a biscuit into her mouth and wagged his eyebrows at her. "Especially in the country known for _l'amour_."

"That's France," she informed him around a mouthful of yummy goodness.

Wow. These biscuits really _were_ good. Her parents, it seemed, had been right. Maybe it had been worth getting lost in Milan to get them…

"We should have gone to Nice, if you wanted love in the aisles."

"He laughed and pointed at the prostitutes. "Milan or Nice – which is better for love? Let's go ask them, shall we? Better yet, let's give them the biscuits in exchange for information."

She slapped his arm and took the box of biscuits away from him. "Not a chance, you Slytherin prat. Let's just try to find our way home on our own."

"I have a better idea."

He pulled her into a nearby alley and took out his wand.

She flashed him a censuring look.

"What?" he asked, starting in on the whining again. "I'm sick of no magic! Besides, the sun's gone down. It's night. We're home free!"

Before she could reply, with a wave and a word, they Apparated away in a crack of thunder.

Yes, it seemed life had returned to normal in the wizarding world after Voldemort's defeat… Or, as normal as it could ever be with Draco "irresistible prat" Malfoy as a boyfriend.


End file.
